Creed
by chezzababyx
Summary: Strange things are happening in Topsfield, causing a coven of female witches to seek out help. Can they earn the Son's trust? Or, will it be too late?  POST MOVIE, OC's/SONS. RATING MAY GO UP LATER.
1. PROLOGUE

Immediately, I knew that I was being watched.

I felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand upright, as if charged with static electricity; felt a pair of eyes, burning into the back of my head with their unerring gaze; felt the chill in the air and the blood humming through my veins faster and faster as my heartbeat raced.

I had been slumped over in my chair, absent-mindedly taking notes on the history of the suffragette movement, when I felt this unwanted attention trained on me. The biro I was holding fell from my hands, skittering away across the sage linoleum floor; it came to a stop a few metres away.

Bobby Reinhardt noticed the pen and leant over to pick it up. He held it back to me, hand outstretched, with a hopeful expression deep within his eyes. "Here you go, Emily."

"Thanks, Bobby," I murmured back. His eyebrows rose slightly at my casual use of his name, as if he was shocked to learn that I knew who he was.

"Are – are you okay?" he asked me, apparently buoyed by my response.

I nodded wordlessly, snatching the pen from his hands. If he noticed my rudeness, he didn't show any signs of it; he happily went back to his texting, no doubt informing all of his friends that he had spoken to Emily Scott – _yes, _the _Emily Scott _– and that...

Well, it didn't matter. I tried not to worry myself with the idle gossip that spread through this high school's halls like wildfire.

The teacher continued her lecture on the work of the Colonial Australian suffragettes, blissfully ignorant of the fact that her efforts were being largely ignored by the class. Students stagnated in the classroom, a few listening here and there, but most were waning perceptibly as the speech wore on. It was as if no one else could feel the presence but me_._

A quick glance over my shoulder told me that there was no one awake in the row behind me, and no one looking in my direction further back than that – but the uneasy feeling still tormented me. Someone – some_thing_ – was watching the students of Topsfield High School; someone or some_thing_ had its eyes trained on me, and who knew who else?

Three rows away, Taylor Turner turned sat low in her seat, her long limbs stretched out before her and crossed at the ankle. She had buried her head in the crook of her arm and laid it against her desk and now her dark hair flowed over her ears and hid the buds of her headphones. _Why can't she feel it, too?_ I groaned internally. _Am I really going insane?_

Just as this thought crossed my mind she shot upwards. The headphones fell from her ears, emitting a faint hum; her green eyes sought out mine, fear and confusion shining through them.

"Someone's watching," I mouthed to my sister.

Of course, she wasn't really my 'sister' – not in the biological sense. We were connected by something far more important and meaningful than family ties; what wove our fates together couldn't be defined by bloodlines or genealogy...

Covenant.

A sacred covenant, uniting five matriarchal families with secrecy and promise: a covenant of witchcraft and honour; of protection and survival; passed down from generation to generation, mother to daughter, culminating in this.

Secrecy. Survival. _Fear._

Strange things were happening in Topsfield. These were not the eccentric goings-on of suburbia or the predictable neighbourly disputes so often seen, but, seemingly, the work of pure evil.

A missing student, for example; Daisy Matthews, a senior, who had disappeared after her shift at the Bakery and Bean last Friday night, along with her parent's Mazda and a nominal amount of cash from her bank account. Those who knew Daisy were perplexed. Why would she leave? She was happy; a hard-working, polite girl with a loving boyfriend and a coveted spot on the cheerleading squad. She'd never said a bad word about anyone; she had no reason to leave.

Many had assumed she'd just wanted something _more_ from life and left, telling nobody of her plans. Life had continued on, just as it always had and always would, with no one dwelling too long on the sadness of the fact.

It didn't do to think about sad things.

Then, there'd been the fire – a strange fire, assumed to be a freak event of nature because no one could pinpoint how or _why_ it happened. Repairs had been made to the severely damaged City Hall, but records had been lost. They didn't know _which _records; didn't know what information was contained inside of them; but the records were so old that most figured they couldn't be terribly relevant and shrugged the loss away... I knew better.

The records contained information about Topsfield's founding families – _my _family, _Taylor's _family, and three others.

"Mama Jeanie," I mouthed, nodding in a small gesture towards the door.

Taylor nodded back, distracted. She silenced her iPod, wound the headphones around it and tossed it into her bag carelessly as her eyes roamed the room. She was seeking out someone – some_thing – _just as I had. She was looking for the strange entity that had been watching them us weeks.

I slipped from my seat and across the classroom largely unnoticed – even by the teacher, whose attention still seemed to be focused on the large projection of Germaine Greer that dominated the screen. She didn't even look up when I opened the classroom door, or closed it behind me with my palm pressed against the wood to soften the sound of it being shut.

A quick scan of the hallway proved it was empty. Within seconds, I was dialling in my home number with shaking hands.

Mama Jeanie answered on the first ring. "You feel it, too?"

"They're watching."

"Just the one," Mama Jeanie – my grandmother – countered.

"Mama J," I whispered, my voice cracking as I glanced nervously over my shoulder. Through the small window in the door, I could see Taylor's staring at me nervously. "What are we supposed to – "

"The Book of Redemption tells of a small coven in Ipswich."

"But how do we know that they're – "

"The old Putnam barn... _burnt down_. A student found dead in his car and another gone missing."

My mouth was dry; I swallowed painfully and glanced about the hall once more. "Ipswich?"

"The answer lies in Ipswich," Mama Jeanie asserted. She hung up without saying her goodbyes – a habit that drove me mad, even after all these years. My hand dropped from my ear, fingers curling about the tiny flip phone to clamp it shut.

_Ipswich,_ I sighed, turning back to the door. I slipped silently through the door and back to my seat without drawing too much attention to myself, other than a few intrigued or confused looks from my classmates.

_The answer lies in Ipswich..._


	2. MISSION

Taylor's eyes – blue as a desert sky, as Mama Jeanie would often lament – narrowed as she observed the squat, one-storey building that sat a little along the deserted lane. Even I, level-headed and polite as I was, could only describe it as 'ramshackle'.

Scuffed wooden boards hung limply from the buildings side, some bowed from the weight of the near-constant drizzle and fog. The few grimy windows gave glimpses of dim lighting, and impressions of bodies pressed tight against each other, but surely wouldn't let in much light during the day.

A few teenagers spilled from the main entrance; others loitered about the doorway and car park. Every so often, the sound of raucous laughter would echo along the quiet road and reach the Vauxhall Astra parked a little away – the vehicle in which Taylor and I now sat – permeating the silence that dominated the car's interior.

It wasn't the students who had caught Taylors's eye. She was far more intrigued by the neon sign that hung above the building, emitting the faintest of buzzing noises. "Nicky's Bar and Grill," she read aloud. "Emily, you _sure_ this is where they are?"

I could practically read her thoughts. Taylor, loveable snob that she was, couldn't reconcile the image she had crafted of the Sons – wise and mighty warlocks, strong beyond their years; our saviours – with the kind of people that would undoubtedly populate this 'bar' on a Friday night. She'd expected something cleaner – something slightly more befitting of Ipswich's history.

I shrugged and stretched out my palms towards the cars small heating vents. "It is the only bar in town."

"What makes you think they hang out in a bar?" Taylor countered.

I raised an eyebrow mockingly. "They weren't in the dorms – "

At these words, I paused. I'd felt self-conscious enough as it was, entering the Spenser Academy dorms and seeking out the Sons, but that hadn't been the worst of it. Those feelings of shame and nervousness had only intensified when I'd asked some nearby girls where she could find _them_. They'd eyed me with complete and utter detestation and said to check at Nicky's.

Katherine was sure to mock me if I told her about my little... _interaction_... with the girls of Spenser. "So they have to be here," I finished lamely.

A sigh escaped Taylor's perfectly pink, pouted lips. "You're right," she replied earnestly, letting the car ease forward toward the packed Nicky's car park. It took us a short while to find a park, between a yellow Ferrari and a sleek black Hummer, but she swung into the space with little pause and ripped on the handbrake. "What's the game plan, boss?"

My breath caught in my throat.

We were here now; moments from our first meeting with the Sons of Ipswich. In the next few hours, the fate of countless people – Taylor and I included – would be decided.

_What am I supposed to say to them? _My inner monologue hadn't stopped once since this afternoon and was only growing faster and more panicked by the second. _How can I possibly ask them for help? What if they say no – I'm not ready._

A streetlight flickered incessantly some twenty feet away, goading me even further in my already nervous and irate state. My eyes narrowed – almost imperceptibly, as though I were squinting at some impossibly tiny and illegible font – and within mere seconds the faulty light bulb blew, shattering into a million pieces and raining tiny shards of glass and wire onto the Tarmac below.

"I don't know," I replied honestly, blowing a gust of air from her lightly glossed lips. "I really don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say."

We sat in silence as I stewed on my thoughts, completely uncertain. Instinctively, my fingers went to my mouth and I began to chew mercilessly at my nails. "I'm not Raani," I sighed, thinking back to my elder sister.

Raani had been fearless when it came to our sisterhood; she had never allowed anything to stand between us. But that had been before - years ago. She'd left all of this - she'd left _us - _behind for the relative comfort and ease of a mortal life, effectively making me the leader of the pack.

Taylor stretched a perfectly moisturised and manicured hand across the gearbox and slapped my fingers from my mouth, a murderous look on her face. "Stop it!" she chastised, eyebrows knitted together darkly. "Raani never had to deal with this shit, Emily. Some truly awful shit is going down, Em."

"But – " I sighed, but knowing that Taylor was right. We had never come up against something like this before. "Maybe... maybe you're right. Let's just go in. Sitting out here isn't going to get us anywhere."

Taylor's face clouded with sadness but she said nothing. Instead, she switched off the car's ignition. She was the first to slip out of the car and stood by the driver's door, waiting for me to gather her thoughts.

"It's cold out here," she called, pulling her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. "Bring your jacket."

* * *

The air inside of Nicky's was sweaty and thick, permeated by the scent of a hundred different perfumes and colognes. Both young and old lingered inside, most congregated around the bar.

"I'm getting a drink."

I didn't even respond as Taylor slipped away towards the swarming masses.

_If I were a Son of Ipswich, what would I be doing at this very moment in a Massachusetts dive bar?_

I began a slow circuit of the room. A few students piqued my interest – a boy leaning casually against a pinball machine, watching as the girl beside him fell over herself trying to win his attention; another by the jukebox, consulting his friends as he selected a song – but none of these prospects struck me as... well, as warlocks.

_How can I possibly be sure?_

Taylor was by the bar now, perched on a bar stool that some slightly older male had quickly vacated for her. She sipped her mojito gracefully, wooing the crowd around her with her easy grace and charismatic personality.

The boy beside her eyed her body lustily and gestured to buy her another drink.

_God-like, _I listed. _The Sons of Ipswich will carry themselves with confidence and maybe even a touch of arrogance. They will know that they are invincible; undefeatable. They will be the dominating presence in every room that they occupy._

I began another lap, my fingers thrust into the pockets of my jeans. _God-like, arrogant, invincible_, I repeated in my head.

"Emily!" Taylor called, waving her hands in the air. "Emily, come meet this _nice _young gentleman."

My eyes rolled instinctively, but I had to admit that the young _gentleman's_ arrogance and confidence could be spotted from a mile away. The moving bodies that separated me from the bar moved quickly – liquidly – as I walked through them, eager to let me through. Silly as most mortals were, they could sense that there was something not-quite-right about a witch or warlocks presence. A few eyes scanned my body and face as I passed by; some with shock and some with awe.

"Long Island iced tea," I called to the middle-aged bartender. He didn't even bother to check my I.D. – no one ever did.

"Classy drink."

"For a classy girl," Taylor countered brightly.

His voice sent shivers – not pleasurable shivers, but the kind of shivers that were the result of instinctual distrust – running up and down my spine. I eyed him with cautious appraisal. His looks weren't particularly astounding: longish, curly hair flopping over a high brow and small, calculating eyes; a smirk plastered across his lips as he undressed me with his eyes; slightly above average height. He wore a designer jacket and jeans and to me, these were his most astounding features.

"_This_ is Aaron Abbott," Taylor purred, smiling at him coyly. "I was just telling him about you and I thought, 'what could I possibly _tell _him that he couldn't learn from _meeting _you himself?'"

"What indeed, Tay?" was my sarcastic reply.

She raised her eyebrows at me – the slightest inclination of brows that cost more to maintain than anything on my person – and let her grin fall into a grimace. "Well, at the very least he can help us find our _friends_."

"Friends?" he repeated, eager to drag out the conversation that he had sensed my displeasure. "Who would they be?"

"Garwin, Parry, Danvers, Simms," she listed lightly, flicking her hand into the air casually as if it were normal to refer to people only by their last names.

Aaron Abbott scoffed. "You don't want to hang out with those – "

I could feel Taylor's eyes boring into the side of my face. I knew as well as she did that we wouldn't get anywhere on this little _mission _of ours, unless I was willing to play along – but that didn't mean I had to enjoy it quite as much as she did. "Oh, but we do," I sighed. I leant against the counter in a move that was calculatedly casual, aware that my ample chest was now eye level with our 'prey'.

"You do?"

"Yes. We have some unfinished business to attend to."

"Unfinished business," Aaron repeated dumbly.

"They owe us. Big." Taylor contributed.

He hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the pool tables. There, a small crowd had gathered as two young men fought.

Well, a more accurate description would be that one of them was yelling violently while the other leant casually against one of the tables, cue in hand. Disdain and boredom were etched across the latter's face, even as profanities were screamed in his ear.

Taylor leant forward and whispered in my ear. "Bingo. We have our first Son."

We picked up our drinks, thanking Aaron politely and quickly as we walked away. We ignored him even as he asked us if we were coming back – if we were both very, very lucky, we would never see the arrogant Aaron Abbott again.

The closer we got to the pool table, the louder the yelling became. "You're a cheater – you're a low-down, dirty cheater, Garwin!"

Three others joined him now, arranging themselves around him like a wolf pack. The sore loser immediately folded in on himself, stepping backwards. "Hey, man," he began apologetically as the tallest of the group stepped forward, "I won't start any trouble."

"Didn't think so."

_Situation over. _Even _I _was shocked by how quickly the combustive situation had been calmed, and I _knew _the power they wielded over mere mortals – I wielded it, myself.

The tallest exchanged words with Garwin, who didn't seem to take them to heart: as soon as the others left he stepped forward cockily, holding his hands in the air. "Anyone else want to try me – but only if you promise not to get mad when you lose..."

Taylor and I rolled our eyes in synchronisation.

"Bastard," Taylor noted. "Quick, before we have to wait out another game."

I cleared my throat and stepped forward, wondering how best to approach the situation, but before I could open my mouth he had me beat.

"Hello gorgeous," he called, stepping towards me. "I'll take your money if you want but there are so many other things I'd rather take off of you."

There were a few chuckles and high fives throughout the crowd.

I was ready and willing to retort, but Taylor saved me from myself. "Only if I can join in," she countered, grinning devilishly.

Though I didn't think slutiness was the best way to win his attention – particularly not in something akin to a business deal – but I had to concede that it was fun watching him choke on his drink. "What?" he spluttered.

"You heard me."

She slipped her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close so that she could whisper in my ear. "Just do it."

"Do what?" I whispered from the side of my mouth.

"Trust me."

I groaned internally at the thought of what I was about to do. "Yeah," I murmured breathily. "You're not gonna turn us down are you, stud?"

"Couldn't you use a little _relaxation_ after such a long, tiring day?"

"If you come with us, we promise we'll make you feel _all better_."

Taylor stifled a laugh at my fake slutiness by bearing her face in my neck; a few noises of approval and male cries of surprise sounded from what little crowd remained. "We'll make you feel all better? Really?"

I ignored her. "Are you coming?"

"You will be soon," Taylor whispered into my hair.

I scoffed, but Reid didn't notice. He was far too busy playing this up for the crowd. "Yeah, ladies, I'll come with you," he called to the crowd, moving forward.

Taylor slipped to the side and pulled him between us, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Well, one of us," she giggled as I rolled my eyes at her.

We were halfway to the door when we were stopped by someone who looked far too young to gain entrance to a bar, let alone be holding a Heineken. "Reid, where are you going?" he asked, clearly shocked by the sight of two girls hanging off of his friend.

Taylor's hand reached out to grab his collar before he could say another word. "Hi, I'm Taylor. What's your name?"

"Tyler."

"Tyler _who?_"

"Tyler Simms?"

She grinned coyly. "Well, Tyler Simms, why don't you come with us?"

He didn't say another word as he led us to his car – the sleek black Hummer parked next to Taylor's Astra.

"I'm driving," Reid called out.

"So long as you drive us somewhere _romantic... _Can you think of anywhere we can go, Baby Boy? It has to be someplace where no one can find us – I don't want _anyone _to hear the noises you're going to make."

My eyes bulged. Taylor was making it sound like we were going to kill them in some particularly grizzly way and hide the bodies – or, at least, it sounded that way to me. The boys didn't seem to see it that way.

"Trust me, I know just the place," Reid told us as he reversed out of the parking space. "You're going to love it."


	3. DUPE

Reid drove for an impossibly long time—or, at least, what seemed to be an impossibly long time. The few lights that had marked "civilisation" had faded long ago and we drove in darkness along a winding road, marked on either side by forestation. The trees grew so tightly clumped together that, in the darkness (and I would hazard, in the daylight too) I couldn't see anything but their spindly, skinny trunks. I sat silently in the passenger seat staring out of the window at them, trying to ignore Reid's occasional appreciative glances at my face and body. Taylor sat in the back with Tyler, slightly more vocal than Reid and I: there was the occasional whisper from the backseat followed by a Taylor's throaty giggle.

_We'll talk about that later, _growled a little voice in my head. _Someone's taking their job a little too seriously. _

The song we had been listening to ended. We sat in silence for an awkward two second beat as the next began; as soon as it had, a small gasp escaped my mouth. I leant forward, fiddling with what I assumed to be the volume knob, until the music was satisfactorily loud and even then, it couldn't drown out the murmurs that rose from behind me. Reid raised his eyebrow at me in question as the music blazed. "I like this song," I said in explanation, and leant back against the sumptuous leather seating.

"You like this song?" he repeated incredulously. "Thissong that we're listening to, right now? The song that is currently playing—you like that song?"

"It's a good song."

"You like Disturbed?"

"It's a good song," I repeated by way of answer, and turned back to the window to greet the skinny trees again. I felt Reid's eyes on me a moment longer and worried that he would push the subject or try to keep the conversation going but, thankfully, he was smarter than I'd taken him for and kept his mouth shut.

After an eternity we came to a dirt path that seemed to lead deep into the forest. A part of me assumed this wasn't our destination—that we would continue our drive until we reached some disgraceful shack that contained a bearskin rug and fireplace—but I was mistaken. Reid didn't even pause or brake, and turned into it sharply, kicking up bark, gravel and the last remnants of the golden autumn leaves behind him.

"Go easy on the car!" Tyler called from the backseat, momentarily distracted from Taylor's warm body. The moment was brief—he soon turned back to her and continued his murmured diatribe about how utterly breathtaking she was. Curiosity got the better of me; I flipped down the sun visor that hung above me and watched in the vanity mirror as Taylor pulled his face back to hers.

She rested her forehead against his, as I'd seen her do with a dozen boys a dozen times before—her trademark move. "Spooky."

"It's not that bad," he told her, putting up a token show of male bravado.

"Promise to hold her close when it gets _really_ scary?" I muttered sarcastically as I flipped the visor back up. I felt like a voyeur.

Neither of them heard me, but Reid had. He chuckled, and again at Taylor's showy gasp as the Hummer was launched over a huge bump in the road. "Sorry. Almost there." The assurance seemed aimed at no one in particular. I decided it was best not to reply.

_What will I say to them? _hummed my inner monologue. _When's the right time to ask a complete and utter stranger if they maybe, possibly, pretty please wouldn't mind saving your life? Is there such a thing as the 'right' time to ask such a serious, serious favour?_

The Hummer came to a stop in a clearing not too long after. It took the terrible twosome in the backseat a while to notice that the vehicle was—shockingly enough—no longer moving and that our travels were complete. Once they had, we clambered out silently.

It was deserted. The skinny trees rose above us, encircling us forebodingly. Taylor's eyes caught mine, her nerves shining through even in the dim moonlight that broke through the canopy. She opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it. "Where are we?"

"The Dells," Tyler answered, gesturing for Taylor to follow him. "There's a beach just down here, if you want to see?"

"I _love _beaches!" Taylor trilled, and all previous traces of nerves and shock wiped clean off of her face. She shot me one last silencing look and took Tyler's hand, leading him towards the sound of crashing waves on rock. "You know what I love _most _about beaches, Tyler?"

To his credit, Tyler looked a little sheepish as he followed her, but not even a touch less eager than he had in the parking lot outside Nicky's.

Reid and I walked a little behind them in relative silence. He'd reached for my hand once or twice but I'd moved out of his way every time. If my resistance irritated him, he didn't show it; he walked beside me without complaint and would occasionally make comment about our surroundings.

"We usually party out here," he told me, gesturing widely to encompass the stretch of greyish-white sand.

"It's kind of a depressing place to party, isn't it?" I took in the jagged cliff faces, sporadic tufts of grass that grew stubbornly amongst the sand, and erosion. It was certainly not the prettiest beach I'd ever seen, but was in the lead for 'fucking creepiest'.

Reid shrugged, grimacing at my obvious displeasure. "It's the only place we can go. So where are you from?"

"Nearby," I told him nonchalantly.

Up ahead, Taylor had curled herself into Tyler's side and was giggling profusely at something he'd said. The sound echoed back to us, shaking me out of my uncertainty.

"There's something I want to ask you."

Reid's eyes squinted in confusion. He pulled his hoodie tighter around him, zipping it up to half-mast to protect from the sudden chill. Up ahead, Taylor froze, still curled sensuously into Tyler's side. As they broke apart, she turned back to me very slowly, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Now?"

"No time like the present, is there?"

I turned to Reid first. His face was altogether too daunting, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I couldn't tell him, I realised—couldn't watch his face as I blurted out our ulterior motives. Instead, I turned to Tyler's wide, innocent face.

"We need your help," I began, floundering for words that would express the magnitude of our situation. My concern from earlier in the night came flooding back to me. "We need your help so, _so _desperately."

Silence fell around my proclamation, leaving the words hanging in the air. Finally, after an uncomfortable pause, Reid broke it. "What?"

"We live in Topsfield," Taylor hinged, taking one baby step away from Tyler. At mention of Topsfield, the two exchanged a cursory glance.

"And?"

"And," I interrupted, my hands fidgeting in my pockets, "something really scary and really awful is happening there. Something dreadful—something not _human_, we think. The Book of Redemption told of you, and we knew that strange things had happened here, too—" I glanced at Taylor, desperately willing her to help me out of the corner I'd worked myself into.

"How did you make it go away?" she finished.

* * *

Taylor's Astra flew along the highway—six or seven miles per hour above the speed limit, I guessed—with Taylor herself at the wheel. I sat slumped in the passenger seat, my Converse kicked up onto the dash, curled in the foetal position. Neither of us had spoken yet, but the silence was bound the be broken soon.

"They just fucking _left us there!_" Taylor screamed suddenly, leaning on her horn as she overtook a station wagon. "They just left us there to fucking walk, from the middle of nowhere, we had no idea where to go, and it was fucking _cold._"

"It was pretty lowdown of them," I commiserated.

_Though no more 'lowdown' than us luring them out to said middle of nowhere with promises of sexual favours, _I scolded myself. _That's the last time I play along with one of Taylor's little plans! Raani never would have been so _stupid—

"Bitch, stop it!" Taylor yelled, as she swerved to avoid someone's abandoned Happy Meal. "It's not your fault," she continued, suddenly calm. "It's mine. It was a stupid plan. I should have known it wouldn't work. We should have just spoken to them outside Nicky's—been upfront. At least then, we wouldn't have ended up abandoned in the middle of the forest like some shit out of 'Twilight'."

I couldn't help but chuckle as she pulled off of the highway, headed towards the centre of town where I lived over a Wiccan bookstore with my Grandmother and my two little sisters. "It was an interesting plan. You seemed to like Taylor just a little bit."

She shook her head. "He _is _rather pretty. Emily?"

I hummed my response, throwing scattered objects into my bag—including my Physics textbook. I groaned at the thought of the quiz I would be unprepared for tomorrow morning.

"What do we do now?" she finally asked as the car came to a stop outside of my house.

I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and considered our circumstances, picking my words carefully. "We implement Plan B, Tay."

"Oh. What's that?"

"It's a work in progress. Pick me up at seven?"

"Seven-thirty," she countered, eyes darting to the clock on the dash. "I need my beauty sleep."

* * *

I DO NOT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM, OWN OR CLAIM TO OWN THE COVENANT.  
THIS IS MERELY A WORK OF FANFICTION, INTENDED TO PAY HOMAGE.  
PLEASE DON'T SUE ME.


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